I was enraged at being alone on the outside of all that love and lust.
Life, then, was song and purple font, imagining in words a future.
I can see on him how things are changing for and against us.
Lorenzo and me, we’d squat our own building. It was the new frontier.
She did not leave him for the sailor. So why should he be angry?
In a way she enjoyed the slow, sad feeling of letting it go.
I have, in the long solitude of my body, asked for something else.
To articulate sweet sounds together is to work harder than all these.
The animals are dying. All the beautiful women are dying too.
Death is a lack, I suppose, and love more so. But I will not falter.
I had the tongue of an adder and my heart was black with rage and hate.
Why do girls want to cheerlead? Don’t they know it objectifies women?
Sleepy and pensive, July succumbed to the day’s isolating heat.
We imagined the train routes through the heart of the country.
The sunrise does not blaze fiercely but spreads in a gentle flush.
All these barns with their busted spidery limbs strewn over the lupine.
It is music opening and closing, Italia mia, on Bleecker, ciao, Antonio.
He touched her bruise more softly than an elevator button.
The purpose of all rules of piety is to extend revelation into ordinary life.
I rented a house in the woods of East Hampton as a form of therapy.
Betsy recoiled, understanding instinctively what was to come.
People only see that side of him. He is still a boy, learning to be a man.
I wanted to forget my parents’ slow dying together in Ohio.
I would chase it to the shores of the lake where the killer waited.
“If a man wanted, he could be anything and not come back.”
I felt awful about imposing on him, but I was desperate to see the Derby.
O Fatima if only you would lean my way my heart would quiver.
The blade was buried to the hilt in the outside corner of his left eye.
All this while, I am eating the apple in this careless moment of life.
Order gardening clogs, then realize you feel like a runaway nurse.